


Swimming Pool

by justlikepagliaccis



Category: The Who (Band)
Genre: Drowning, Hurt/Comfort, Keith is a lil shit, M/M, angst pretending to be humor, but everybody's okay, pete's trying to be a supportive friend, please just let pete sleep, stay safe kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikepagliaccis/pseuds/justlikepagliaccis
Summary: It's times like these, when Keith has no one left to turn to, that he finds himself in Pete's room. He just can't admit that to himself.
Relationships: Keith Moon/Pete Townshend
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Swimming Pool

**Author's Note:**

> Largely inspired by Swimming Pool by the Front Bottoms! I've read through the very limited selection of moonshend works and decided to add my own to the mix! The pairing needs more love, for sure!   
> Enjoy,  
> – adeleine

There were a lot of things that Pete would rather be doing at 1am – namely sleeping for longer than twenty minutes. But swimming in the hotel's deathtrap of a pool wasn't very high on his list of priorities. Because of recent debt from John's overspending and the constant smashing of guitars and drum kits, they had to cut costs. This meant that the band was stuck in a cheap one storey hotel just outside of Chicago for their tour. 

As soon as Pete took a glimpse at the sign, a faded wooden board reading The Budget Lodge with the G and E missing, he knew that he wasn't going to spend much time enjoying their amenities. In fact, the small pool that The Budget Lodge had out front would've looked rather appealing if not for the duct tape holding the ladder together and the gigantic gaudy fake jungle plants adorning the cement sunbathing area.

Pete planned on totally avoiding the thing, happy to enjoy a bed of any condition (even if it was more moldy than he would've preferred) so long as he could rest and brainstorm new album ideas. It was going perfectly fine until Keith barged into his room at ass-o-clock in the morning wearing nothing but a towel and a floppy beach hat. Initially, Pete thought that he was having a horrible hallucination from something in the brandy – he prayed it was a horrible hallucination. Keith wasn't even covering his lower half with the towel, just his chest. So his first reaction was to make a whale noise of great disappointment and chuck a notebook in Keith's general direction, then cover his own head with his blanket, trying to go back to sleep. 

There was a yelp, the sound of his ammunition hitting its mark. 

"Pete," Keith whined, lobbing the book right back at him. It hit Pete's head with a clunk. "And I even came here to invite you out with me!" He had the nerve to sound legitimately hurt. Pete didn't dignify that with a response, burrowing further in his cocoon of warmth. Maybe Keith would go away if he ignored him long enough. Of course, Keith being Keith, refused to take Pete's silence as an answer. He marched over to the bed, tearing the sheets from Pete. 

He barely cracked open an eye to acknowledge Keith, refusing to be within that much proximity of his dick this early in the morning, and turned his head away from him. "Why the bloody fuck are you fucking naked?" Keith's grin was nearly audible, and Pete had a feeling he hadn't bothered plugging the gap with his false tooth. 

"Ah! You don't get to find out unless you come with me!" Keith was cackling now, and it certainly didn't help his case one bit. Pete deigned to look over at him only for the explicit purpose of shooting Keith a soul-vaporizing glare. For a moment, he wilted pitifully, but it wasn't long until Keith sprang back up again, bearing a gap-toothed grin. "Come on! I'm gonna try out the pool! I can't do it alone!" 

Swimming in rancid, STD-infested hotel pool water was something Keith could most definitely do by himself. Pete turned over and wrenched his blanket back, rolling himself up like a burrito and hoping Keith would take a hint. Deep down, Pete was aware that nothing kept Keith from something he really wanted. It should've been flattering that he only wanted Pete to join him in the pool, but it lost its luster pretty quick at the idea of getting mouthfuls of murky, diseased water and having to babysit a tipsy, naked Keith. 

Instead of leaving Pete alone to rest like a respectful friend, Keith resorted to saying Pete's name repeatedly in several different octaves, accents, and tones until he was forced to drag his half-alive body out of bed and join him. It was a dirty tactic that Pete would have to prepare a counterattack for. 

The night air was admittedly fresh and crisp on his skin. A passing breeze gently pulled the clouds away to reveal the glittering stars and crescent moon above. Soft blinking lights from the Chicago skyline framed the scene, carefully watching over them. The beautiful backdrop nearly concealed the rolling greenish waters of the pool – nearly. Pete trudged slowly behind Keith as he happily paraded across the parking lot, totally unbothered with his own nudity. Sometimes Pete envied his confidence. He felt the urge to cover his gangly frame, even when he was clothed in a set of pajamas. 

"Right this way, dear boy!" Keith called in that posh accent of his. He stopped in front of the ladder, making an exaggerated bow and gesturing with one extended arm to the pool. Pete barely refrained from grinning at Keith's antics. No matter how irritating the little git was, his intentions were always decent, if not morally ambiguous. Right as Pete was opening his mouth to tell him off, Keith tossed his towel behind him and dove right in. He made such a splash that the water hit Pete from a few feet away. Pete groaned and huffed, wringing his damp shirt out and hoping that the bacteria was at least non-life threatening. 

"You prick!" Pete said, not really very mad at all. 

Keith surfaced in the middle of the pool spluttering and laughing, with his bangs pasted to his forehead. He swam a couple laps around the circumference before growing bored and paddling over to the side, propping his head up on a hand and gazing over at Pete with mischief twinkling in his eyes. Pete knew that look all too well and also knew to stay far, far away from Keith while he was scheming. 

"Come on in, the water's just fine!" Keith gave him a suggestive eyebrow waggle that immediately got him the opposite of the desired effect as Pete turned and began to walk back to the hotel. "Wait, wait, wait! Pete you promised!" Pete could hear the panic in his voice and only felt a little bit bad that he was leaving Keith out by himself. Maybe he did need someone to make sure he didn't accidentally drown. 

"I didn't promise anything! You're fine out here by yourself. You're a big boy." 

"Who says? Please, Pete. You don't have to come in. Just – Just stay nearby, would you?"

What was left of Pete's resolve crumbled entirely upon catching a glimpse of Keith's wide puppy-dog eyes. He rubbed at his own burning eyes with the heels of his hands and nodded his assent. Dragging a stiff beach chair over, Pete plopped down with a world-weary sigh. If he lay here long enough maybe sleep would come again. Pete curled in on himself, turning on his side and closing his eyes again. 

It wasn't long before Keith wanted his attention again. He was splashing around and giggling to himself about God knows what. Pete was keen on ignoring it in favor of blessed rest, but unfortunately Keith wouldn't let him sleep out here for very long either. There was one last cackle, and Pete was drenched in icy cold water. He made an undignified yelping noise, springing up from his place on the chair and skidding on wet socks straight into the pool. Pete met the water with a slap and sunk face-first like a log. Keith went quiet out of pure shock, not expecting this outcome at all. He waited a few seconds for Pete to emerge and, when he failed to do so, hurriedly went after him. 

Keith dragged Pete out of the water, lips pulled in a tight, worried line as he set him down on the concrete. He cradled the back of Pete's head with one hand, unsure of what to do. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Keith murmured under his breath, prodding at Pete's narrow chest for any signs of breathing. He had no clue how to perform CPR, but would gladly try if it helped. "Pete!" Keith shouted, both hands going to cup Pete's face. "This isn't funny! You've got to wake up. Wake up!" Unbeknownst to Keith, he was crying. Tears streaked his cheeks and blurred his vision. 

A slow minute passed and Pete sluggishly peeled open his eyes. He squinted at Keith and promptly turned to spit out the accumulated water in his lungs. Keith watched from his place on his knees, blinking back more tears as Pete hacked up the remainder of the water in long, wet coughs. Once Pete finished, Keith tackled him in a tight hug, squeezing his middle painfully. "Are ya alrigh'? Do ya need a hospital? Are ya breathin'? Is there anythin' I can do?"

Pete grunted, trying to pry Keith off but to no avail. He didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. Falling back onto the cold cement with a ragged sigh, Pete rubbed slow circles into Keith's back. Despite him being the one that nearly drowned, Pete found himself sliding back into his familiar caregiving role. It was second nature to him, no matter how aggravating Keith was, Pete could easily take him up into his arms and Keith would go silent. 

"Loosen your grip before you crack my ribs, mate," he said, his voice hoarse. Keith scrambled to let go, his thick eyebrows bunched up as if he were the one in pain. 

It took Pete a minute to find his breath when he finally made it to his feet, each time he wheezed Keith looked ready to dash inside and call an ambulance. Or possibly even the score by tripping into the pool himself. 

Standing there, both drenched and hyperventilating in front of a motel pool at 1am, they must have been a sight. Keith still didn't have any clothes on, something Pete was reminded of rather belatedly, and he was shivering in his own pajamas. He gathered up the remnants of his sanity and tried to look strong. Pete's attempts were half-hearted at best, especially when Keith was staring at him like that. His big brown eyes were clouded over with tears and his bottom lip was wobbling as if he was about to let loose another heart-wrenching sob. 

Unsure of his place, Pete shuffled over and threw a long arm around Keith's shoulders, placing a firm kiss on his temple. "I'm alright, Moonie. Come on, before they catch you for indecent exposure out 'ere." Keith murmured something that sounded a lot like an apology as they trudged back to the hotel, leaving trails of puddles in their wake. 

Keith followed him right back into his room, his fringe sopping and concealing his face; he looked the epitome of a schoolboy about to be punished. Pete could barely think straight anymore. He only wanted to get dry and head right back to bed. But he did remember to toss Keith another towel and a change of clothes. Often times, he would stay over with Pete because of a nightmare or some niggling, self-deprecating thought at the back of his head. Pete tiredly welcomed him each time, offering up a side of his bed and an arm to curl up underneath. 

However, it was different now. A thick tension hung in the air, preventing either of them from being able to settle down comfortably. Even in his fresh pair of pajamas, Pete remained rigid on the edge of the bed. Keith was sitting on the other side of the room, clad in one of Pete's worn t-shirts that clung to his belly and fell to his knees. He was an adorable sight, quietly fisting at the frayed hem and peering up at Pete with such a despondent expression that he had to get up and bring Keith into his embrace again. 

Not even a second afterwards, Keith was weeping into his neck. Pete didn't have the heart to complain about his dampening collar, and chose instead to tangle his fingers in Keith's hair, gently combing through the wet strands. They stood there until Pete felt his legs go fuzzy from the full weight of Keith pressed up against him. He led them to lie down onto the bed, the mattress squeaking in protest before finally giving way to accommodate them. 

Pete landed on the flat pillows with a groan. Keith refused to let go of him during the short trip from standing to lying down, so he latched onto Pete's chest and wriggled up to nestle his head beneath Pete's chin. 

The only thing that could be heard was the slow ticking of the clock on the wall and their out of sync, ragged breathing. Pete slid his hand down the length of Keith's back, tracing his spine with nimble fingers and massaging his tense shoulders. This was, by far, one of the most intimate experiences of Pete's life. He wondered distantly if Keith felt the same, or if there really was something to Keith's presence in his bedroom whenever he had a nightmare. It could've been passed off for brotherly affection, but Pete knew better. There was nothing brotherly about the passing glances bursting with a deep sort of emotion Pete couldn't ever properly place. There was nothing brotherly about the way they were holding each other, pressed together so closely that there was barely a centimeter between them. 

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! I swear I – I didn't," Keith blubbered into his neck. Pete was expecting this sort of explosion of pent up guilt, so he hushed Keith and rocked them side to side. Keith continued to ramble, his voice cracking and his words muddled with tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, I – I didn't – I love you, Pete." 

Pete halted his movements, unable to work his mouth properly as Keith sobbed his eyes out on his chest. He was acting as though Pete was dead. There was no denying that something had happened to Keith to make him so petrified of losing his friends; something that he'd yet mentioned. Pete didn't pry. Instead, he kept dragging his fingers through Keith's hair and breathing long, steady breaths to calm them both down. 

It seemed to work. After an hour, Keith had settled down enough to fall into a light sleep. Pete, no longer tired from his icy bath, watched the moonlight paint pale swaths of color onto the contours of Keith's face, reflecting off of the tear tracks trailed across his cheeks. He looked ethereal, never-ending, and fragile all at the same time. 

With Keith passed out like an angel on top of him, blissfully quiet and sweet, Pete found it in him to speak. 

"I love you too, Keith." 

FIN.


End file.
